April Fool's!
by maricsblade
Summary: Zevran and Oghren play a prank on Alistair and F!Cousland. Kink!meme fill.


_Reviews and/or constructive criticism make my day! If you have feedback, please write a review. ^_^_

"By the paragons!" Oghren swore in the dark, almost dropping his end of the cargo. "I knew he was tall, but this is like lugging a Deep Roads bronto. How does he keep all that weight on with our rations, anyway?"

"Shhh!" Zevran hissed, shuffling backward, his arms hooked under Alistair's shoulders, trying not to let the warrior's head hit the ground. "You will wake our friend! I do not think that Morrigan put her all into that sleep potion. She was not exactly pleased with my request."

"Did you tell her what it was _for_? I bet she'd have cut that peephole herself."

"I did not, but I should have."

They moved quickly—the Warden was due back in camp at any time. In fact, she was already late.

When they reached her tent, it became obvious that carrying Alistair had been the easy part. Trying to get him through the tent flap without bringing the whole thing crashing to the ground was another story. Luckily, whoever had made camp yesterday had done a commendable job of securing the stakes, and it endured their fumbling without incident.

Zevran was about to lay Alistair's shoulders down on Elissa's bedroll when Oghren lost his footing, pushing Alistair's body forward. Suddenly Zevran found himself flat on his back and Alistair hit the ground with a thud.

"Wha-? Hey? 's going on? Ow," Alistair mumbled, rubbing the back of his head. He seemed completely unaware of the fact that Oghren was holding his ankles.

"Nothing at all, my dear Alistair," Zevran cooed in a soothing tone. "You were simply having a bad dream. Go back to sleep."

Alistair's head lolled sideways, and in seconds he was snoring. Relieved, Oghren eased Alistair's feet to the ground.

"Remove his tunic and get the ribbon ready!" the assassin whispered. "I'll do the rest."

In the time it took Oghren to wrestle the tunic over the warrior's shoulders, Zevran had removed Alistair's boots, stockings, breeches, and small clothes.

"Hey, how'd you…?" Oghren looked confused. Zevran just smirked at him. "Oh, right. Forget I asked."

Zev motioned for the ribbon. Red satin—perfect. It was pure genius for Oghren to have picked it up on their last supply run before Fool's Day. He kneeled at Alistair's hip and looped the ribbon underneath the prone victim's testicles. "It seems that I forgot one detail when I requested that potion," the elf laughed softly. "This would have been so much easier to tie." He made a knot and bow over Alistair's shrunken member, then stood back to admire his handiwork. The two of them tittered like schoolgirls at the sight of the bashful virgin lying there like a present for their leader to unwrap.

"I don't know who to feel more sorry for," Oghren chortled. "Let's get out of here."

Elissa yawned as she approached her tent. Her discussion with Brother Genitivi had taken much longer than she'd anticipated, and he'd been nice enough to prepare dinner for two. He was no slouch in the kitchen, either. She patted her tummy appreciatively.

"Need a hand with your armor?" Oghren asked from his place at the campfire.

Her eyes narrowed. Her choices tonight, it seemed, were Oghren and Zevran. Either way it would be a leerfest, but Oghren was actually less likely to grope. "Sure, if you don't mind."

As he worked at her buckles, the dwarf was in an unusually good mood and several times he seemed about to burst into laughter. When he was done, she shooed him away. "Thanks, Oghren. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Not if I see you first!"

_Right. Whatever that means,_ she thought.

She carried her armor through her tent flap and was about to toss it unceremoniously to the side when she noticed a dark lump where her bedroll should have been. As her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, she realized that it was a very large, seemingly _naked_ lump. Of…

It couldn't be.

_Human male._

She set her things down carefully, skirted her bedroll, and quietly lit her reading lamp. He lay on his side, his back to her. Short coppery hair. Broad shoulders. Narrow hips. _Heyyyyy, nice tushie!_

It was indeed Alistair, snoring gently. Even the lamplight didn't stir him. What in blazes was he doing sleeping naked on her bedroll?

She crept up beside him, trying to get a look at his face. It was peaceful. Completely unaware. Of course, she couldn't help looking…other places, too, and that's when she she saw it. Suddenly, everything made sense. She fell to the ground in a heap, cackling like a crazy woman, until her sides started to hurt and she had trouble catching her breath.

"…trying to…get some sleep over here…" Alistair slurred. "What are you going on about?"

Tears streamed down her face. She couldn't even begin to respond.

"Heeeey, wait…what? Why you…in my tent? Why am I…AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" Alistair screamed like he'd seen a pair of eyes staring up at him from the bottom of the latrine.

"You're in _my_ tent," Elissa choked, averting her eyes. "And not only are you naked…take a look at your man parts."

Closing one eye, he peered down in the direction of his genitals. "Oh, _Maker_!" he huffed, tearing at the ribbon and trying to pull the bedroll over himself. "…going to kill them!"

"Who?"

"Ogh. Zev. Said…they'd gotten some nice brandy, wouldn't I like…little nightcap…before bed…"

She couldn't help it—that got her going all over again.

Alistair tried looking around for his clothes. "Have to go. Very sorry. …make it up to you." He found his breeches, and after ensuring that her head was still turned, slowly rose to put them on.

_Crash! _His head missed the tent pole by a fraction of an inch as his body crumpled to the ground. "Ow!" he yelled, and then his tone turned plaintive. "Not…funny…"

"It's okay, Alistair," Elissa said soothingly. "You can stay here tonight. I don't mind."

"What about…others…"

"They pulled a good prank. Let them have their fun. You're in no condition to go anywhere, and I'm definitely not strong enough to carry you."

Of course, she could just go sleep in _his_ tent. But what would be the fun in that?

She handed him an extra blanket so he could cover himself while she worked to lay the bedroll flat. One blanket between the two of them would have to do. For his sake she wouldn't be sleeping naked tonight anyway. She stumbled upon his small clothes and held them out to him between her thumb and forefinger, but he waved her hand away.

"You'd better remember telling me that," she warned, tossing them aside. She made herself a pillow of sorts out of clothing, then blew out the lamp. "Good night, Alistair," she said, patting him on the shoulder.

"'Night, 'lissa."

She closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep, even resorting to counting sheep. But it was difficult to let herself go with Alistair not only lying a foot away but _au naturel_ to boot. Eventually, she grew tired enough to doze off.

It was still very dark when she felt him stir. He thrashed about for a second or two, then became still, then rolled over to face her.

"Elissa."

"Alistair?"

"I can go now. I think I can get dressed now."

But she didn't want him to go. It was so nice just having him near, feeling the warmth of his body, listening to his peaceful breathing, being able to talk to him without anyone overhearing. "Why don't you just stay here with me? You're all settled in. It'll be morning soon anyway."

"I…are you sure? What will the others think?"

She laughed. "Yes, I'm sure. And you know me—I don't really care what the others think."

He sighed. "Right. Sometimes I wish I could be more like you. Relax more, worry less."

"Surely I don't make it look _that_ easy! Anyway, I like you just the way you are."

"You do, do you?" She heard the smile in his voice.

"Very much."

He propped himself up on his elbow. "I like you too."

She beamed into the darkness, then stretched lazily. "In fact, I started liking you…let's see. Redcliffe. When you told us about being Maric's son, and apologized for not having told us sooner."

"Redcliffe? That was ages ago."

"Yes."

He paused and considered the implications of this revelation. "What was it you liked? The apology, or that I was Maric's son?" A fine undercurrent of tension tinged his voice.

The thought that he might be worried about why she liked him made her voice suddenly soft. "You might not believe me, but it was the apology. So heartfelt and sincere. Oh. And the fact that you obviously didn't care about being king."

"Really!" He sounded unconvinced. "You don't think I'm just an ungrateful coward?"

"I think that people who desire power rarely do anything good with it."

"But you're…a noblewoman."

She shrugged. "I was born that way. But my parents brought me up to take responsibilities seriously, not to ignore them or use my position to take advantage."

"That attitude is rare," he agreed thoughtfully. "Why haven't we spoken about these things before?"

"Because you weren't lying next to me in bed in the middle of the night?"

"Don't forget naked," he added.

"How _could_ I forget naked?"

There was an awkward silence. Then she felt hesitant fingers in her hair. He was brushing it away from her face, tucking it out of the way. She shivered when his thumb grazed her ear.

"Elissa, may I kiss you?"

How formal and polite he was being, naked in her bed before they'd even had a first date! The situation was utterly ridiculous. She'd have to be sure to thank Zev and Oghren.

"I suppose I could suffer that," she said with a mock sigh. Then she felt his lips on her nose, and she giggled.

"Blast it! You _will_ do something besides laugh at me before this evening is over." He leaned into her again and this time he got her square on the mouth. She did indeed feel her urge to laugh fade away as her lips tingled in response to his tentative kisses. He was oh, so gentle. But when she slipped her tongue into his mouth, he surprised her by responding in kind and without hesitation. As their tongues twined and played against each other, warmth flooded her skin.

"Fair warning," she murmured, tracing his lower lip with her thumb. "It isn't every day that I happen upon my secret crush lying naked in my bed. I feel inclined to take advantage of the situation."

He moved even closer, and she felt the power in his hulking frame. "I feel inclined to let you." He tugged at her sleeve. "And I think you need to be a bit more…naked."

He unlaced her tunic while she worked at her breeches and small clothes, and in no time her clothing lay strewn about the tent. She reached her hand around his back and pulled him to her, suddenly wanting—_needing_—to feel all of his skin against hers at once. She reveled in the sensation of her breasts pressed against his chest, his arm curled around her, his firm manhood against her stomach, his muscular thigh tucked under her leg.

"Mmm, I could get used to this," he said, squeezing her to him.

She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him hungrily. Then she trailed kisses down his neck and his chest, into the fine, straight hair next to his bellybutton.

"What are you doing?" He sounded genuinely curious. Then she licked the tip of his cock.

"Oh, Maker, _really_?" His head rolled to one side. She took the tip of him into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it, sucking lightly, slowly washing the underside, teasing the slit, licking up the drop of salty pre-ejaculate that had presented itself to her. He groaned without seeming to care who might hear, and she heard herself moan in response, enjoying the sounds that she was coaxing from him. She licked him up and down and then took him more deeply into her mouth, sucking a bit harder now, moving up and down and around, bringing her fingers up to lightly stroke and fondle his balls, already pulled up close.

She felt him swell and twitch, and she knew he wouldn't last much longer.

"Elissa, I'm…I'm going to…"

She nodded and continued her motions, and moments later she felt his whole body go rigid and shudder as he cried out and released his seed into her mouth. She swallowed it easily and continued to move with him until he slowed and stopped. Then she released him and licked her lips.

"All right, it's official," he announced breathlessly. "That was the best thing that's ever happened to me." He pulled her up to lie beside him, and kissed her on the cheek. "Better than apple stew at the Harvest Festival, better than going to the Wonders of Thedas with Arl Eamon, better than…better than _cheese_!"

She laughed. He was so damned _cute_. "I wish I could see your face right now."

"There's a ridiculously large smile on it. That's all you need to know." He realized that he was forgetting something. "Oh. And that I'm not going to leave you unsatisfied."

"Don't you dare," she threatened, swatting at him.

"So. Um. A lesson, for the uninitiated?"

"Yes, well. Finer points later, I'll just get to the main event right now." Her voice was gentle. "Here…like this." She took his hand and placed his fingertips on her mound and started moving them in circles, showing him how she liked to be touched.

His fingers were clumsy at first—not that they didn't feel good, given the state she was in—but after a few missteps he started to catch on.

"That's…very nice," she breathed. "There's a sensitive spot right _here_, and you don't want to go straight for it, but when I'm ready you'll want to focus your attention on it."

"And how will I know when you're ready?" He asked as if there were a secret sign, some signal that only initiates knew.

"You just will."

He continued what he was doing, lost in concentration.

"You're so _wet_," he whispered.

"That means you're doing a good job," she murmured. "And that you might want to put your finger inside me."

He caught his breath. Slowly, gently, he slid his middle finger into her, then began to work it in and out.

"So nice," she sighed. Her hips started to match his movements and her pleasure began to build. She heard herself moan involuntarily when he inserted his index finger as well, and a few seconds later she gasped as she felt his thumb on the spot she'd shown him. He applied too much pressure at first, causing her to jerk her hips away, but he immediately adjusted, settling into a tender and repetitive motion that soon sent her spiraling upward.

She wished again that she could see his face. It really was a shame that it was so dark. But she could imagine his expression, his wonderful hazel eyes watching her with rapt attention as she gave herself over to him.

As Alistair's fingers continued to minister to her, thrusting and teasing, she felt her body tense and her breathing quicken. She reached up into his hair and he kissed her wrist, and she remembered the contours of his body cast in high relief by the warm glow of the oil lamp. Suddenly she was up and over, moaning his name, rocked by spasms of pleasure as she ground herself against his hand and her muscles contracted around his fingers.

She exhaled weakly, drew her knees up, and rested the back of her hand on her forehead. "Thank you, Alistair. That was lovely."

"Yes, it was," he answered, reaching over to kiss her. "And I'm glad I was able to keep my word about getting something besides laughter out of you tonight."

"That you did," she said with a contented sigh. "That you did."

Zevran stepped back from the peephole with a lascivious grin on his face. What they'd done was, of course, so very tame…yet he was tempted to applaud. Alistair had not only recovered from his shock at the situation, he had acquitted himself quite well in the end…which provided Zevran with an avenue for a different type of fun. He lazily stroked his straining cock through his breeches, then padded silently and purposefully toward his tent.


End file.
